This poem describes a walk taken by an old man named Eben Flood. He is lonely, walking home from the pub with a drink. As he gets more and more drunk, he evaluates his life and where he has ended up. As he walks, he talks frankly to himself.

"Well, Mr. Flood, we have not met like this

In a long time; and many a change has come

To both of us, I fear, since last it was

We had a drop together. Welcome home!"

He is so lonely that he talks to himself, commenting on the scenes of life he sees as he passes people by. He is drunk, and sees himself coming home as an old friend. The other people seem to shut their doors to him, and not involve him in their lives. He is all alone. The only one who greets him is himself, and even he is tired of his company.